


Amorous Attentions

by RogueTranslator



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Universe, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack is all these writers deserve to be honest, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dreams, Dreams and Nightmares, Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff, Happy Ending, Humor, I take that back they also deserve the it was all a dream trope, Love, M/M, Nightmares, Romance, The bar was six feet underground and Dabb somehow still tripped over it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27641405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueTranslator/pseuds/RogueTranslator
Summary: Dean wakes up from a calzone-fueled nightmare in which he acted like a character on a badly written television show. Luckily, Castiel is there to commiserate.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 25
Kudos: 255





	Amorous Attentions

Dean shuddered awake, opening his eyes to the darkness. His hands were still at his sides, paralyzed by sleep.

That meant he wasn’t driving.

His chest heaved as he caught his breath. His left arm finally responded, and he reached behind his head to twist on the nightstand lamp. Dim yellow light filled the room.

It was his bedroom in the bunker. But how?

He’d only just started to puzzle through the situation when he noticed the arm slung across his bare chest, the lips and stubble pressed against his shoulder. Dean pushed himself up by the elbows to look down at the arm. He squinted, blinked, scratched his head. The lips and stubble finally stirred.

“Dean?”

He turned to the right. Castiel was rubbing his face with the back of his hand.

“What time is it?”

“Cass,” Dean said, and it all came flooding back. Jack’s apotheosis, after which Dean demanded—nicely—that he return Castiel from the Empty. Him working up the nerve, a few weeks later, to finally address Castiel’s confession with one of his own. Castiel moving into his room, sharing his bed. He was still an angel, but liked to share human things where he could. Like joint sleeping arrangements.

“Dean, what’s wrong?”

Dean fell back into Castiel’s waiting arms and sighed.

“Cass, I just had the weirdest dream.”

“Not again.”

“I know. I really need to stop eating those meat lover’s calzones before bed. They mess with me more than magic mushrooms ever could.”

“Uh-huh.” Castiel pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I don’t know.” Dean stroked Castiel’s arm. “It was so stupid. I mean, you might make fun of me.”

“Dreams are involuntary. I’d only make fun of you for stupid things you have control over. Like when you said you wanted to turn the boiler room into a bumper cars arena.”

“You shut me down before I even finished the proof of concept for that!”

Castiel kissed his shoulder again. “Tell me.”

“Okay, fine. First thing I can remember is me finding Sam and Jack somewhere in Minnesota and telling them about how the Empty got you.”

“Isn’t that what happened?”

“Yeah, but—Cass, it was like I was a robot. I didn’t tell them any details—which, like, valid, some of it’s private. You and me stuff. But it just kept going and going. Days passed with just Sam, Jack, and me in the bunker, and none of us talked about you.”

Castiel made a disgruntled noise. He realigned his body to Dean’s and pulled the duvet up to their shoulders. It always drifted down over the course of the night; Dean had been saying for weeks that he’d get a bigger one the next time they were in Wichita.

“Crazy, right? It was like we didn’t even care you were gone. And then we had this whole plan to beat Chuck and—and that went well, Jack became God and all that—”

“Jack _is_ God,” Castiel said, sounding fatigued despite his lack of any need for sleep.

“Stop interrupting,” Dean scolded. “You’ll make me forget what happened.”

“That would be a tragedy.”

“Jack became God,” Dean said, narrowing his eyes at Castiel. “And I didn’t even tell him to bring you back! And he didn’t do it on his own! Like…I’d say it was the weirdest crap ever, but I haven’t even gotten to the weirdest part.”

“How absurd. As if my own son would leave me in endless torment. How’d you not wake up right then?”

“I guess I need the sleep.” Dean rubbed Castiel’s forearm. “You’ve been tiring me out lately.”

“So, this is my fault, then?” Castiel’s hand traveled to Dean’s navel, the drawstrings of his hot dog pajamas. “You want to spend more of our time in bed sleeping?”

“I didn’t say _that_.”

“Usually when you wake up in the middle of the night, you ask for my amorous attentions to get you back to sleep. Is that what you want this time?”

“One, don’t call having sex ‘amorous attentions.’ Two, I’m still in the middle of my story.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I suppose I was the one who urged you to share it. Keep going.”

“Uh, where was I. So, after Jack bounces to Heaven, Sam and I head home and carve your name and his into the library table. Then we have a beer in your memory and go on a long, happy drive together.”

“Just checking. This is still while you know I’m trapped in angel hell?”

“Yeah. And while we know that current God can pull you out, because previous God did it with Lucifer like two days before.”

“Ah.”

“After our joyride, I adopt a dog and go out for pie. Sam says he misses you, but I say we should just live for your memory.”

“Dean, this sounds like a nightmare.”

“It was!”

“You said that the weeks I was in the Empty after Jack’s birth were some of the worst of your life.”

“They were! That’s why none of this made sense, man.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

Dean sat up against the headboard and peered down at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Dean, I internalized many of the foundational works of psychology when Metatron transferred the Western canon into my mind. One of the early theories of the subconscious argued that dreams express the secret, repressed fears and desires of the sleeper.”

“So, what? I secretly want you to go to the Empty and not come back?”

“Perhaps it’s not quite that literal.” Castiel pushed himself upright to join Dean against the headboard. “Perhaps you’re still unsure of our relationship, and the Empty is simply a metaphor for wanting time or ambiguity to figure out what you want.”

Dean laid a kiss on Castiel’s lips and caressed his cheek for good measure. He nudged him closer, running his hand up and down his back once they were intertwined again.

“Did that feel like I don’t know what I want?”

“Let’s do it again,” Castiel said. “I’m not sure.”

“The next thing that happens,” Dean said, ignoring him, “is a vamp hunt. Long story short, I die.”

“To normal vampires?”

“Yeah. I mean, that was probably the only believable part of the whole dream. Vamps can be tough customers.”

“No.” Castiel shook his head vehemently. “No, Dean, I’ve watched you go up against every type of enemy imaginable. Of all the foes you’ve faced, you know vampires the best.”

“Well, I appreciate the vote of confidence, Cass, but—”

“Surviving a fistfight with God only to die to run of the mill vampires,” Castiel scoffed. “Ridiculous.”

Dean chuckled. “Well, in any case. After I die, I go to Heaven. Bobby talks to me there and says you’ve been helping Jack remodel the joint.”

“Hmm. I won’t deny it; that would be fun. I’ve always thought Jack and I need a father-son project to work on. He’s so busy these days, though.”

“Yeah. But thing is, in the dream, I thought you were still dead.”

“In the Empty.”

“Yeah! But when Bobby says you’re back with Jack, I barely react.”

“I’m beginning to think this is personal, Dean.”

“If it is, it goes both ways. Because I spend decades in Heaven waiting for Sam to live out his life, but you never even visit me!”

Castiel groaned. “Please tell me this is the end of this stupid dream.”

“Pretty much. I drive off in my car, and that’s when I wake up.”

“Dean,” Castiel said. He flopped onto his side and stretched an arm and leg over Dean’s body.

“Yeah?”

“No more calzones before bed. I don’t care how hungry you get.”

Dean frowned. “What about just a cheese one?”

“No.”

“Come on, you know how hungry I get during our movie nights.”

Castiel patted the slight belly above Dean’s waistband. “I know. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Fine,” Dean sighed. “You’re right. I definitely don’t need to relive _that_ nightmare. It was like being a completely different person.”

“Uh-huh.” Castiel reached across him to douse the lamp on the nightstand. “Let’s go back to bed. We’re supposed to be going on that picnic with Sam and Eileen tomorrow.”

Dean snuggled down into his pillow, nestling into the warm gap between Castiel’s body and the bedsheets. He exhaled in contentment.

“Cass?”

“What?”

“Thanks for listening to all that. You made me feel a lot better.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” Castiel patted his shoulder. “To listen.”

Dean kissed his forehead. A few seconds passed in the darkness.

“Cass?”

“Yes?” he said, sounding slightly more impatient.

“You wouldn’t, uh, happen to be up for giving me some of your ‘amorous attentions,’ would you?”

Castiel laughed. His breath was hot on Dean’s neck.

“It’s just—” Dean swallowed. “Honestly, I’m still a little shaken up, and I want to be reminded of what’s real.”

He turned his head on the pillow to face him, and Castiel captured his lips with his own. They took their time, finally separating so Dean could open the nightstand drawer and Castiel could answer, his hand cradling Dean’s head, with the two words Dean never tired of hearing.

“We are.”


End file.
